Invert
by LeonaWriter
Summary: The events of Magician of the Silver Sky - the 8th movie - appear to happen rather differently if we take Haibara Ai's statement a little more literally. After all, how on earth could it be Edogawa Conan that is the fake...? AU of movie 8.
1. Chapter 1

Invert

_Could it be... that you're the fake one?_ – Haibara Ai, in Magician of the Silver Sky

AN: Sorry if anything's familiar. . . but this _is_ an AU of the eighth movie!

---

"Oh, yeah," Nakamori was saying, wringing his hands slightly to get the feeling back into them. "This time I've brought someone to help me with the investigation."

"Although I said I don't need help, that damn Megure actually..."

"Ah, no!" Nakamori protested, looking ever so slightly embarrassed. "Megure-keibu strongly recommended him."

The Inspector turned to the men by the door, and ordered that the help be allowed in. Everyone in the room turned to look, curious as to who it might be. No one said a single word as one of the guards stood back, and measured footsteps started to appear.

First a head, then slightly hunched forward shoulders, then legs and feet. Gasps resounded around the room – both from those who knew him, and those who didn't. But the most shocked were those of Agasa, Edogawa Conan, and one Haibara Ai, although hers wasn't so loud as the others'.

With the introduction, Agasa's mouth opened at a strange angle, whereas Suzuki Sonoko exclaimed in familiar recognition. Mouri Ran said his name, almost disbelieving, and made a jerky half-movement as if to go to him the moment she saw him, the moment she heard his voice.

Edogawa Conan, however, simply stood there, hands clenched and eyes wide at the apparition, gaping. Every so often his mouth would open and close, giving him a fair likeness to a drowning fish. His expression appeared to all intents and purposes to be completely dumbfounded, but the person who appeared to be his age right next to him was not convinced as the high school detective received his welcomes and adorations from the room and the grade school detective still hadn't exclaimed anything of a accusatory manner.

Genta, one of the Shounen Tantei, asked who the newcomer was, and Mitsuhiko asked the other what he was talking about. Ayumi put her own few yen in to add what she saw of the situation – that it was Shinichi-niisan, who was Ran-oneesan's boyfriend.

It was then that something truly strange happened for anyone who thought that they understood the situation to see.

There was Ran's denial, and Sonoko's teasing, certainly. But there was also the noticeable blush that fast appeared on not Edogawa Conan, but Kudo Shinichi's face. Edogawa Conan's face, however, was pink also. . . although he also sported a look on his face as though he had been about to cough or snort.

Haibara Ai took one look at the both of them, and frowned severely. She knew the situation, or at least she thought she did, but this did not make sense.

The only Kudo Shinichi in the room should have been the one standing right next to her. Yet the only Kudo Shinichi who had reacted in the expected manner had been the one a few feet away.

She leaned slightly towards the boy next to her, who was now making actions as though choking at something. At her action, however, he straightened to listen.

"You know," she said succinctly, "one might almost believe that you were the fake one, with a reaction like that."

The response was immediate. Conan started to splutter in righteous indignation and anger, turning swiftly back to the taller figure of Kudo Shinichi.

"O- oi, me?! Haibara," he said, words growing slightly louder for the others to hear him, "_He's_ just as likely to be the Kaitou Kid!"

Everyone's attention instantly turned to stare at the outspoken eight year old pointing a finger at his older double. Then, slowly, their heads turned to the one he was indicating.

The elder Kudo Shinichi did indeed look ever so slightly shocked and dismayed, but not long enough to be picked up by anyone who wasn't looking for it and wanted it to be there, as a moment later he was shaking his head and waving his hands about in front of him to protest his innocence. This did little to help him, though, as Nakamori's mind was already caught on the idea.

"I suppose it is possible..." he said, shortly before advancing on the detective with intent to pinch cheeks hard enough to remove a prosthetic mask and oblivious to the distress of Mouri Ran.

In the hush, Agasa bent down to Conan, who was watching the scene with a faint amount of fading triumph and fast approaching unease.

"What's going on here?" he asked, completely baffled at both this and the earlier display.

"I don't know," Conan replied, sounding suddenly professional. "Perhaps Kid simply looks a lot like me."

"Or maybe," Haibara added in, voice as dry as the Sahara, "we have been infiltrated by Kudo-kun's double."

"Oi, oi. . ." Conan could be heard complaining, apparently irritated.

But irritation did not explain the bead of sweat that streaked its way down his neck, unnoticeable to any but he.

Nakamori finished pinching Kudo's face, and the elder detective shot the younger a sharp glare, which the younger returned with a mischievous glint in his eye that only served to add fuel to the elder detective's ire, and increase the likelihood of the faux girl's vague suspicions.

---

AN: All right. If anyone is confused right now, it's all right. No, really. Everything won't be fully revealed until next chapter. And if you're reading this without having seen movie 8 yet, I advise that you do so. It will answer a lot of questions, and I'd rather prevent spoilers for movie rather than spoilers for the story – as part of the fun of writing this is seeing how differently things go with one big change.

If you're wondering, I may or may not continue this past the movie. If I do, I have no plot for any further story as of yet, but there may be shorts.


	2. Conan and Kid

Invert

Chapter Two – Conan and Kid

-----

As they walked out of the dressing rooms, the taller and elder detective stuck close to the professor and Ran, while the smaller of the two stayed with Ayumi, Genta and Mitsuhiko, not even a couple of paces away but keeping a respectful distance all the same.

It wasn't long before the performers took their leave to get ready for the show, and the group was thinned to the ones who knew each other intimately. Blushing at a private thought as she watched them go, Ran reached out and caught hold of her childhood friend's jacket sleeve, causing the detective to start slightly.

"Just a minute," she said, still holding on. "This is the first time we see each others' faces in so long, and you haven't said a word to me?"

The hurt, regret and confusion could be easily heard in her voice, or seen on her face, in her eyes.

He turned to face her, some unreadable emotion there in his own eyes, face smiling.

"Sorry, I'm sorry – I am. I simply..."

She sighed.

"Simply what, Shinichi? No. . . it's that case again, isn't it? Or maybe this heist tonight. It's all right. I understand."

Again something flashed across his face, his body language tensing in what could be interpreted as excitement or anticipation.

"Well," he said with a laugh, "it's certainly something. Especially if I it means I got to see you again," he added with a grin, causing her to blush prettily.

Sonoko leaned over her shoulder, putting in a derogatory comment about how absence often made the heart grow fonder, which Ran and the two detectives made a bid to ignore, a bid that was not entirely successful. Ran blushed, Shinichi looked away slightly for a moment, and Conan. . . hung his head, as though ashamed of something. An act that on its own was not worthy of too much suspicion, but together with everything else Haibara Ai – and, peripherally, the professor – had seen, it was enough to raise suspicions slightly higher.

"Well, I'm going to go look around on the roof," the older detective said with a resigned air that brightened easily when he turned back to her fully. "Ne, Ran, want to come with me? There's an observation level above," he added.

Almost no one noticed the small upward jerk his hand made. Almost. And if they did, they were soon distracted by Sonoko's quick encouragement.

A small, piping voice, however, deemed that not everyone had been oblivious.

"I want to go, too!"

Conan's protest was immediately cut down by Sonoko, but the boy didn't act at all deterred, clutching to the hem of Ran's dress and jumping about as he stated his clear desire to be let along with, as though in a panic or simply spoilt.

Indeed, in accordance with his wishes, Ran smiled down on him, smile sympathetic and bemused as she told him that they could all go.

The three real children grumbled amongst themselves as to how Conan acted so differently at times, and how children at that age acted spoilt as Conan himself laughed, oblivious to their banter and the sceptical looks Haibara was sending him. He did, however, send one short but scathing look his counterpart's way, which, as he had not been looking in the right direction by design or coincidence, the elder did not catch.

-----

It took maybe anywhere up to half an hour to check the exits and emergency escapes with both Ran and Sonoko tagging along – the professor and the other children had stayed in the main area of the observation deck, for the most part, but the Suzuki girl had insisted on following in the end.

The last to be checked was the emergency exit out onto the roof, and the detective made sure that it was firmly shut and locked before turning to walk away, back into the main area where Sonoko had chosen to sit out the last checkpoint.

She asked them how things had gone, and Ran told her their results. She sighed, sounding ever so slightly despondent.

"I guess that means Kid-sama isn't going to be coming from the roof, then," she said mournfully. "If he had been, I could have gone out up there and waited patiently for him to arrive..." she trailed off with another sigh and an arm over her forehead in melodramatic romantic agony.

The two detectives sweatdropped with a barely noticeable roll of their eyes, sharing an amused, if nervous, look. Both looks were almost identical to each other, except that one wore the slight mention of a smirk, and the other an uneasy tension of some sort.

While the two girls conversed over the subject of Kudo Shinichi, the two boys headed off and around a corner, out of sight. At first, Conan had to run a bit to catch up, but then when he did their paces matched out evenly enough, and they seemed to head subconsciously back to one of the emergency exit corridors where they had not seen anyone else.

Once they were both comfortably secluded there, Conan leaned himself up against a wall, and Shinichi. . . slid down the opposite one, his back against the hard surface and his head tilted back.

"For the last time," Shinichi said, "I don't like this. I really don't like it. Do you have any idea how much I don't want to do this?"

The grade-school detective snorted. "As if that stopped you last time."

"Last time," came the growled answer, "was a do or die decision. I didn't think."

Conan looked away, the shame from earlier finding its way back.

"Sorry," he said. "But. . . if there _was_ any other way. . ."

It was Shinichi who was the one to snort, this time.

"If there was any other way, I've got no doubt you'd take it; just like I would have. But there isn't. So we have to do it this way, instead. Which," he said sharply, "I only ever said I don't like, and I don't like a lot. It doesn't – never meant that I wasn't going to try."

He sighed, and Conan clenched one small fist in frustration that a seven or eight year old should not reasonably be able to have.

"If I gave up now, then that would mean letting everyone down. . . even the ones who don't even know they'd be let down by it. Even 'Jii-san," he added. "Especially 'Jii-san."

The smaller form started, though his face showed pleasant surprise.

"You finally admitting it, huh?"

Shinichi aimed at him a light scowl.

"Believe me, I've had more than enough time to think about things while you've been living with Ran, brat."

This time it was Conan's turn to scowl, and he pushed himself away from the wall. He might have started to walk away, but was stopped by the voice of his companion reaching out once more.

"I still don't like it," Kudo Shinichi was saying in a small voice. "There's so much that could go wrong. I haven't exactly done this before..."

"Hey, hey," Conan said, "it was new to me at one point too, you know. Besides, it's hardly all that new to you; you were there at that clock tower heist..."

"Heh. That one. That one was different, and we both know it."

Nevertheless, he stood and stretched.

"No, really," Conan said softly for the first real time in the conversation, all false bravado temporarily forgotten. "I really do understand what it's like. That first time for me? Terrified. Absolutely terrified. I think," he said carefully, "that even if you didn't go any further, you're the only one who understands so closely what I felt."

For a few moments they were both silent as they walked back to the viewing platform at their own pace. Almost there, Conan swallowed.

"To tell you the truth, Shinichi-niisan, I really do think you'll do just fine!"

Shinichi paused, breathing, and appeared to be taking in the sights of the Shounen Tantei staring at the golden-red sunset, Genta pressing his hands and nose against the glass, the professor and Haibara Ai watching the children from a table not far away, and the girls still talking over by the bar.

"Ne," he started out softly, "has anyone heard the one about Napoleon Bonaparte?" he asked rhetorically, knowing that everyone there knew it or had heard of it with the exception of the children directly next to the windows.

None of them made a quip about it being another lame joke; there had been something sad in Shinichi's voice that had caused them to look at him and pay attention, as though his words held dual meanings in some way that they couldn't describe. He kept his gaze trained on the cityscape as he told the story.

"On Napoleon's land, two Japanese people built their houses. Out of the three names, they were Fuyuno-san, Furuno-san or three, Fukano-san... The two whose names were the real builders of the houses?" He paused, but it was an empty silence. "Fuyuno-san and Furuno-san, of course. How else," he said with a dry laugh, "when Napoleon's famous quote is that 'The word impossible does not exist in my dictionary'?"

"Heh," went Conan, with a similar look on his face.

The children looked as though they were still trying to see the link between the quote and the riddle, and Haibara shot both detectives considering looks while she drank her juice. Ran started to move forward, concern written on her face, but he turned around before he could reach her, a wide smile on his face once more and his arms reaching to the base of his neck with an easy laugh.

"Heh, don't worry so much, Ran. It's nothing, nothing! It'll definitely all go well, so don't you worry!"

A few short minutes later, when they were separating out to their theatre seats, Conan looked back towards his older doppelganger who was still over by the exit, Conan himself only a few hundred yards away yet. The decision to do so seemed to have been made almost on a whim.

"Go for it, Shinichi-niisan!" came the shout from the boy's lungs.

'Shinichi-niisan' looked surprised at the shout, but not unpleasantly so.

"Yeah, sure, kid – you do the same, right!"

They shared challenging smirks, and parted ways.

-----

AN: And hopefully, everything that has been confusing people (admittedly a guilty pleasure in this one) will be revealed next chapter if you haven't already figured it out. I hoped to make it a bit more original, and yes, that scene between Shinichi and Conan is completely new to _Invert_. And also touches upon certain necessary and important plot points.


	3. Detective and Thief

Invert

Chapter Three – Detective and Thief

-----

Once fully in the seating area of the opera house, Edogawa Conan found himself sat next to his guardian, Mouri Ran. Neither seemed to be paying much attention to each other, however. Ran's was on the conversation she was having with her friend Sonoko. Conan's was on the figure waiting patiently over by the entrance as the last patrons were trickling through.

Or maybe not so patiently; once he had activated the tracking device in the faux glasses, he could clearly see what appeared to be the tapping of a hand against a leg, an incessant tic that could be given over as impatience rather than nerves.

They both watched as the curtain rose, as the first act played out, as the scenes shifted and the audience went ooh and aah. Up until the scene where the jewel of the night first appeared, when Conan noticed out of the corner of his eye the sharp movement of Kudo Shinichi turning to look up at him. To which he simply planted his elbow on the arm rest, and leant his head upon his hand. An act which to anyone else would have been seen as an act of boredom. Kudo, however, turned back to the play. Conan, not moving from his new position, yawned widely behind a hand.

The play went on. And on. And on. And neither detective moved from their place.

Right at the very end, however, Conan looked up to a snippet of conversation between Ran and Sonoko.

"Ne, Ran? Isn't that person beside the pope your father?"

Ran looked surprised, but didn't say anything. Conan, however, looked closer, and upon seeing both the elder Mouri and Nakamori down on the stage in full costume, he had to hold back a snigger. So that was their grand plan to catch the Kaitou Kid, huh? Not much good that would do, when they were looking in all of the wrong places.

He spared one last look down at the figure that was _still waiting_ below. With a sigh of exasperated yet familiar irritation, he got out of his seat, leaned down to Haibara with a quick word to look after things up there, and rushed down to the exit.

Where he proceeded to yank hard on the elder's wrist, pulling him with all the weight of his seven year old body so that the teenager was forced to follow him out into the corridor.

"O-oi, what was that for?!"

"What do you think it was for, moron? That was your cue!"

"My- ?" At first confused, Kudo Shinichi's face soon grew a bright shade of magenta. "Damn," he cursed, looking away slightly.

"Yes, 'damn'! You're _supposed_ to have been halfway down the hall by now, idiot! Sometimes I wonder what Jii was teaching you while I was stuck in kiddie school, Kudo, I really do!"

Shinichi opened his mouth as if to retort, but was cut off before he could.

"Just get _out_ of here, and don't forget the policeman-security disguise on the way to the roof, either."

The taller of the two ran off into the distance to do exactly as Conan had said, and the diminutive detective ran a hand through his hair in an effort to alleviate some of the stress that came from attempting to teach a detective – especially this detective, for some perverse reason – how to be the Kaitou Kid.

Suddenly realising something, he patted at the top of his head, and cursed fluently. His hair gel was coming loose.

What had once been set into a loose fringe with a cowlick and base point was now free to do whatever it liked. And whatever it liked happened to be to look like it could eat combs.

He swallowed another curse and, trying to smooth the offending – and giveaway – hair _down_, damn it, he started to run off after his counterpart, who was playing thief for the night. Or at least, supposed to be.

Running with his mind half on the task at hand and half on the dreaded thought of discovery now that his hair was loose and he resembled not so much Edogawa Conan any more, so much as a shrimpified Kuroba Kaito with glasses.

Which, he reflected with barely repressed anger and bitterness, he was.

And Kudo. . . he had to admit, with a little resentment, that even Kudo wasn't all that much better off than before. Now, neither of them were even near their girlfriends, and Kudo had been living the imaginary case he'd thought up for Ran, staying away by necessity and only calling for what was now two or three months.

After all, there had to be a Kaitou Kid. And if Kuroba Kaito just off and disappeared one day and a new little boy appeared in Ekoda, then there would be questions – a lot of questions – asked. But Edogawa Conan was already there. . . and there had to be an Edogawa Conan, too.

Caught up in his thoughts and not looking where he had been going, Conan-Kaito bumped into someone, sending himself sprawling back onto the floor.

He looked up to find a portly man, still quite young, looking down at him, wearing the security officers' uniform.

_W-wait a minute! That wasn't the disguise we agreed on!_

Fear took over for the moment it took the officer to open his mouth and speak.

"Hey, kid, you all right?"

. . . and then, he remembered that, no matter the state of his hair, he still looked only seven years old. The man leaned forward and lifted his cap of slightly to look down at him better.

"That was pretty dangerous."

Instantly, to avoid any further inspection, he got himself all the way off the floor and dusted himself off.

"Yes, I'm all right," he reassured the guy. "Anyway," he started, remembering easily the rehearsed lines for such a situation, "have you seen a guy in white rush past here? Maybe your height, but with a big top hat?"

The man regarded him closely for another moment or two, and he felt even more conscious than ever of his untamed hair. Eventually, he shook his head.

"No, but don't I recognise you? At first I didn't know, but aren't you one of the ones with that famous detective Mouri...?"

"Y-yeah..." Fumbling for anything else to say to that – and anything that would give him a good excuse to have been running about in the corridors when the guy hadn't seen Kid here, and he'd been here since before Conan – he caught sight of another officer, slightly shorter, closer to his weight when he was older and carrying a baton that was quite a bit longer than the norm. He hid a smile. _Bingo_. "Thanks, mister – but I gotta go now!"

"Eh, sure – just watch where you're running, kid!"

With a hastily called 'I will' thrown over his shoulder, he was off again, but instead of following his counterpart down the corridor again, he doubled back on himself, going back up the escalator and into the lift that was just being emptied by two guys and a girl. Quickly, to make sure that no one else tried to come in after him, he squeezed in and pressed the button for the highest level, the observation area they had been examining earlier.

They had gone over the plan before. If possible, Kudo would take the faster route down the corridor and straight to the service lift that exited right next to the fire escape, rather than going out the same way that Conan just had – and hopefully, those passers-by would think that his hair was just loosened by the way he'd been running – and that way, Kudo would take less risks in being seen or caught. If he'd been confident enough, he could have interfered earlier when Conan had tripped up, but that would have meant voluntarily making use of the flash device in the baton, as well as going past everyone near the lifts and in the observation area.

Luckily though, because he knew all of this, Conan only had to put on a show for the tourists of looking around for the Kid in the place where the lift stopped and let him off; he knew exactly where to go. Right around the corner and up the emergency exit, up the interminable amount of stairs – which, again, had Conan cursing his current form, as Shinichi must have been able to take them so much quicker due to his longer legs – and out onto the roof.

Where, silhouetted by the lights of the city, the building opposite and the floodlights that shed their luminescence onto the roof, the form of the police officer stood, waiting, hands in pockets.

Conan allowed himself time to think, to let his panting die down, before he spoke, walking forward with a smirk on his face.

"Not too bad for a beginning shot, I'd say. Kid."

"I guess so," said the figure, turning around to face him. "So, what do you say – now?"

Conan's smirk blew itself into a grin for a precious couple of seconds.

"Let's see what you can do. _Now_."

And, with a single movement from the shoulder out, the disguise of average police-security officer was ripped off, to reveal the white costume of the Kaitou Kid. Kaito himself had to admit that it wasn't messily done, either. . . not a speck of dirt, nor anything done wrong. Even Kudo's hair had been messed up – the detective would likely be complaining to him about that later, whining about how long it took to tame again, but the effect was complete.

Kaito wasn't sure exactly what it was that made it look so easy. The months-long training under Jii, perhaps? Or the suit itself, perhaps? It could even have been Shinichi's own blood acting for him that made him look so serene, so in control, so perfect in the place of the phantom thief. Without disturbing the moonlit and city-lit night except by the flapping of his cape, which sounded nothing so much like the sound of the beating of doves' wings. The detective-turned thief even had Poker Face down to an art.

"Tantei-kun."

At first, he wasn't sure who exactly had said it. Then, he realised that he had only been mouthing the words of another. He smirked, blue eyes glinting behind unneeded glasses and wild hair waving its way wildly in the wind.

The game was afoot.

----

AN: And now you know why it was called Invert, and the reason behind that first quote. I did give you all the clues you needed. Oh, and there's a little something else, too – but I won't be saying until either the chapter it's actually revealed in. . . or if someone sees it and tells me P_^


	4. Flying and Falling

Invert

Chapter Four – Flying and Falling

-----

If he wasn't being honest with himself, Shinichi would say that he hated that white suit with all of his being. That he would never want to see it again, or touch it, or wear it. He would still say to all and sundry that he still wanted to catch the Kaitou Kid, handcuff him and lock him away behind bars. That he still couldn't understand the why of the Kid's thefts, and would do all in his power to bring the thief down, and any associated with him.

But all of these, of course, would be lies.

Despite himself, whether he had asked for it or not, the thrill of putting on the suit that first time had been just that, even in the particular circumstances he had found himself in – a thrill. Admittedly, there _were_ times when he hated it, but that was because of how it had changed him and what it had changed him into, rather than what it had made of his life in general. The suit itself still gave him a strange feeling of recognition whenever he saw it, electricity whenever he touched it, and the familiarity of an actor wearing an old costume whenever he wore it.

He now understood the Kid's thefts and crimes better than anyone – save, perhaps, for Kuroba Kaito himself. Thus also, he could hardly catch the Kid now, when it would mean handing not only the person playing the part of Edogawa Conan over to the authorities. . . but also himself.

Now, standing on a rooftop with the wind blowing through his hair and causing his cloak – his cloak, he still had a strange skip of the heart when he thought that, though for what reason he was sure was a mix of pleasant and bad thoughts – to make that flap-flap, flap-flap sound that had been the first thing he had heard when Kid had first appeared to him, that night so long ago on another rooftop in Beika, their positions an inverted mirror of who they were now.

He looked down at the small form of Edogawa Conan, different only in that his hair was by now flying free every which way, and for a single moment had the strange sensation of double vision, seeing things from the Kid's perspective and the lower perspective of Conan that he would have had but for the events a certain few months ago.

Then his world shifted back into his normal perspective, and Kid's smirk danced across his face.

". . . Oi, Kid," Conan was saying, not coming any further and not making any move towards the various gadgets that both of them now knew like the backs of their hands. "The game's up. Say whatever you want, but..."

"Heh," he said, "you certainly have that right, Tantei-kun."

"Let's settle this _here_, Kid..."

His heart skipped a beat from excitement and sheer thrill as Conan's smirk widened, and then . . . then there was that sudden movement of the younger boy's hand to his belt, and without any further ado his mind was preoccupied, hand going straight to his card gun, shooting away a card to distract the kid, who'd taken to soccer balls with surprising alacrity, given that previously he'd only followed the sport with vague interest.

The shot went exactly where he'd meant it to, just to the left of Conan's foot, but not in time to prevent the soccer ball that had already hurtled towards his midsection, forcing him to move to the side in order to avoid it. In response, he had shot off first one, then another after another card just short of hitting; with his aim, it wasn't that difficult.

Until, of course, that one point where he realised that 'Conan', despite seeming to get along just fine – one could almost say better than he had, in his first months in such a state – was still new to the smaller proportions. And despite this, there was also the fact that even if it had been him on the other end of the shots, he wasn't sure that things would have happened any other way.

Small body slipping between the railings, Conan fell.

Whispering, hissing a curse for only the wind to hear, the Kaitou Kid ran over to the place where the small detective had last been seen, leapt over the edge himself and activated the hang glider in an effort to fall quicker than the detective.

He'd got Kuroba into this situation, after all. If it wasn't for him, Kuroba would be the one wearing the suit, still. Not him. It wouldn't have been perfect, but then life never was. It was just life. And now – !

He gritted his teeth. People died around him all the time – even now, now that he had the dubious protection of having taken on part of the Kid's mantle, it seemed to be a part of who he was.

But not this time. He was certain that Kuroba had prepared for just this sort of thing, but neither the Kid nor the Kudo Shinichi underneath the Poker Face cared for this, for whether or not his suspicions were correct; he wouldn't give fate even the slightest chance to take even one precious person from him. Especially not if they were –

He sighed in heavy, blessed relief as his earlier assumption proved correct and he heard the snap, crack and flap of material coming free from Conan's backpack that he'd been wearing all day.

"Hang glider versus paraglider, huh?" He laughed, almost drunken in his relief. "I suppose it's too much to ask to keep him on the ground..."

Laughing, he angled away from the building and the dark green paraglider's form.

For a short time, he simply revelled in the simple feeling of flying, that he hadn't been able to truly feel in all of his months of training under Jii, his father and his mother. In the here and now, he was free.

Not bothering to rid himself of the Kid's mask for the short moment it took, he threw a grin over at his younger counterpart.

Conan, lighter and unencumbered by the various tools of his previous trade, was easily able to keep up with the heavier Kid, in spite of the fact that the hang glider was by far both easier to manoeuvre and lighter than the paraglider's heavy layers.

A look back onto their flight path reminded the Kid of how far they had already come, and only a short look around rewarded him with a hasty getaway card. _Bingo_.

He banked the glider softly down onto the path of the train, landing easily and letting it loose up into the air, held onto him by only the wire that would bring him back up to it at the touch of a button. Turning around, he waved merrily at the diminutive detective, who was now landing not too far away, detaching himself from the heavy paraglider materials.

"Just what I'd expect from you, ne, Tantei-kun?" he said, finding it almost scarily easy to keep in persona for the expectant watchers and listeners around them, even if those watching didn't know what exactly was being said. "That paraglider you used just now, I guess it was another one of Agasa-hakase's inventions?"

It wasn't, really, a question. It was a statement born of long familiarity and a faint bittersweet remembrance of a time been and gone. A kind of nostalgia, if anyone who had known him well enough had been able to get close enough to his position on the moving train.

Conan, however, only answered him with another smirk; not one of the trademark Kuroba – or Kid – smirks, but condescending nonetheless.

"You're grounded, Kid," were the words that came out of the boy's mouth. "You can't fly. Stuck like that, the Kaitou Kid is another petty thief."

Anyone else would have said that there had been triumph in his expression just then as he'd said that, but the only one watching could see a faint amount of pity, some sadness, a slight amount of gaining melancholy and perhaps a bit of resentment.

In response, he shrugged in an affectation of indifference.

"Well, in that case," he said all too innocently, "Maybe I should just go back to being the Kaitou I was before..."

For a moment, the wild-haired Conan had looked at him incredulously, but then he had obviously heard or seen something – his attention had been drawn to the white glider still in orbit above them.

In a rush, the younger boy ran forward, seemingly desperate to catch a hold of even the slightest bit of him before he got away yet again, but in reality he could now see the spark of triumph that hadn't been in the other's eyes before, and there was the fact that when Conan had lunged to catch his legs, he had thrown his arms out just a little too wide.

Grinning, the Kid had returned to the glider, and once secured safely to the flying device once more, had angled for home, or some variation thereof, as the smaller detective had been forced to watch him fly off from the roof of the train.

---

It had ended up taking Kuroba Kaito, now known as Edogawa Conan, an inordinate amount of time to get back to somewhere he recognised, and even longer to get back to where he knew that Ran – now his 'Ran-neechan' – would be waiting for him.

Not to mention the fact that he had needed to take even more time – try half an hour or more – to comb and gel his hair back into Conan's tamed style with added cowlick.

To say that he had been looking forward to going back to them would have been neither a lie nor a truth, but a middling sort of confusion, still.

He had known of them, in a strange sort of way, before. Been able to act as them, so as to even fool their own family and friends. But to actually actively be one of them, and to keep up the performance for so long. . . no. Never had he done anything of the sort before.

If he was honest, it tired him. But he didn't stop. Couldn't, really; not only did he owe it to the real Shinichi, but he also owed it to these other people, and himself. He supposed that now they both knew what each other had felt like. One was knowing what it was to be on the wrong side of the law for the first time, and the other learning what it was to truly be hidden under a layer of masks for every hour of every day.

Only one more thing to add to the understandings between them, he supposed.

But now, now that he was being faced once more with Mouri Ran's questioning, determined, fearful, but heartbreakingly _resigned_ gaze, he felt guilty, as he had never done when he was being Kid.

Not because she looked and sometimes acted like Aoko. There were far too many differences between them for that. But simply because she shouldn't have to be waiting like this... because Kudo Shinichi was back now, and he could tell her, right? And at the same time, he felt guilty as well for his own sake, because he was doing exactly the same thing to Nakamori Aoko. Leaving her behind while he protected other people. Making her wait for him like she had never had to wait for him when he had been Kid and Kid alone.

"But I thought he was right there," Ran was saying, not bitterly. Just sadly. "I saw him there. He. . ."

"Sorry, Ran-neechan," he interrupted. He couldn't help himself. He couldn't stand to see it any longer. "I'm sure Shinichi-niichan will be back as soon as he can be, but he had to go chase after Kid. . ."

And, once again, he had seen her nod her head slowly, brush her face with a sleeve and take a breath. Once again, she headed back out into the throng of waiting friends and relatives, to reassure them that both she and Conan-kun were alright. That she was unaffected by the sudden disappearance of Shinichi.

Haibara Ai was the only one who truly noticed that Edogawa Conan wasn't his usual self at all, glasses reflecting light and not letting onlookers see his eyes.

---

It hadn't taken Shinichi nearly as long to get to the place he was staying at that night, but a great deal of that was due to the fact that he had been forced and coerced into learning the route off by heart from any direction, so it take him so long to find _a_ route. Even if it did seem ten times longer, in his perception of things. He had had to double back on himself more than three times, he was sure.

And now, he was back at base, dressed and appearing as himself once more, though his hair would still need a thorough amount of discipline to get it as neat as it had been before tonight, though.

Still, at least he was definitely Kudo Shinichi again, he thought with a shiver. It wasn't that he didn't like being the Kid – it was simply that. Sometimes, it was too easy, too easy to fall into the role and just go with it, without any thought as to what it was he was doing, even if he knew in his head that both Kuroba and his 'Ji-san had had their own reasons, good reasons, and now he did too.

He opened the door to the hotel apartment with tired hands, tired eyes that wanted to make doubles of everything. It creaked open slightly, and to his attuned senses it was such a loud sound that he flinched. Once securely inside the hall, he drove the door shut, and it closed with a satisfying snick that reassured him of his privacy. He leant against it, exhausted mentally and physically.

"Shin-chan~!"

He groaned, only wishing to be able to go peacefully to bed, but if wishes were fishes then Kuroba would be much easier to scare.

So saying, Shinichi was accosted right there in the middle of the hallway by his mother, who pulled him into a massive hug aimed right at her chest. Belatedly, he gained the energy to escape, only to find himself peering at the unreadable face of his father.

They stared at each other for a few moments, neither about to back down. Then, without warning, Kudo Yuusaku nodded at his son. Then, he looked away.

"Your uncle would have been proud," he said, as though from a distance.

Shinichi continued to stare right back at the man's face.

"And what about you?"

The father turned his face to scrutinise his son once more. Shinichi felt his mother's hand squeeze his arm in reassurance, but he kept on looking at his father. It wasn't merely a dead man's pride that he was after, or half-hearted half compliments. He wanted, as always, the truth.

Finally, he received an answer, of sorts.

"You did well," the man sighed. "Off with you, now. You need your rest."

Shinichi nodded once and walked proudly back into his room, attempting not to show his exhaustion to the man who had tried to stop his uncle from being what he had been that night, from doing what he had thought had been right.

Kudo Yukiko watched him go sadly.

"I wish. . ." she started, wistfully.

"I almost think that it would have been better if those two had never met each other," Yuusaku said, words heavy. "But I suppose that in many ways, it was unavoidable."

"Do you think we did the right thing, Yuu-chan?" Yukiko asked, desperate. "Keeping it from them."

For a moment the novelist looked as though he were about to answer her one way or the other. Then, he seemed to think the better of such a thing.

"Whether we did or didn't is an academic point, now. Who knows? Perhaps they'll be stronger than Touichi and I ever were, acting together..."

Not too far away, Shinichi sneezed just as he was settling down to sleep. A bit further away than that, his cousin did the same thing – at the same time – and followed it up by muttering unintelligibles grouchily under his breath.

---

AN: Well, I did leave hints. Small ones, but I did. The ending scene with Yukiko and Yuusaku was spur of the moment. I don't even know if they were fully in character or not – I was mostly going from what I remembered of them from Becky Tailweaver's Relative Truth story, though my version of events isn't the same by far.

Don't worry; I'm not ending it here. I'm still going to do the latter half of the movie-AU.


End file.
